


Bravado

by msmchugh96



Series: Into The Spider-Verse [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22736059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmchugh96/pseuds/msmchugh96
Summary: Standing in front of a two-way mirror, Jessica pulled at the stitch on her top lip. A little twinge of pain made her grit her teeth. The swelling around her mouth had gone down, but the black and blue still remained. Last time when she looked at herself in this mirror, she had a deep cut just above her right eye. Before that, she was picking shards of glass out of her cheek. The small interrogation room (or as she called it, “The Time Out Room”), was a familiar place for Jessica. However, to her credit, she had gone almost a full three months without being thrown in there. A personal best.Part 3 to my pervious one shots1. Clair De Lune: A Conversation with the Winter Solider2. Waiting Game: Spider-Woman Monologue
Series: Into The Spider-Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573507
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Bravado

Standing in front of a two-way mirror, Jessica pulled at the stitch on her top lip. A little twinge of pain made her grit her teeth. The swelling around her mouth had gone down, but the black and blue still remained. Last time when she looked at herself in this mirror, she had a deep cut just above her right eye. Before that, she was picking shards of glass out of her cheek. The small interrogation room (or as she called it, “The Time Out Room”), was a familiar place for Jessica. However, to her credit, she had gone almost a full three months without being thrown in there. A personal best.

A loud beep came from the intercom on top of the metal table in the middle of the room, “Jessica, can you please take a seat.”

She did as told. Back straight, feet forward.

The door in the corner opened up, and a short nameless, faceless man with a pile of papers walked in. He laid out photographs, marked-up documents, and a tape recorder on the table before taking his seat.

Jessica immediately let her rigid posture go, “Is she not coming?”

The man didn’t look up at her as he placed a new tape into the machine, “The Madame is away. She has, however— ”

“I need to see her soon.”

“Given me a set of questions— ”

“I need to speak to her.”

“To ask you about what happened in Kabukichō recently.”

“I need to— ”

“And you will.” He pressed the record button. He slid the photograph farthest to the left forward. “When was the last time you saw the Winter Soldier?”

Jessica took a photograph into her hands. It was fuzzy, but you could make out her leaning against a trash can as he stood above her, moving the hair out of her face.  
“The last time I saw James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes— the Winter Soldier— was at the middle or the end of August.”

“Was it the middle or the end?”

“End. It hadn’t rained in a long time. If you are going to want to be specific on the details for your report, I should tell you that this was the last time I spoke to James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. I had seen him a few times before out of the corner of my eye in Moscow, Budapest, London, New York, all the places you have sent me.”

“You failed to inform us of these ‘sightings’ during your debriefings.”

“You didn’t ask. This was the first time we had talked since Barnes kept me locked up in that shed for three weeks.”

“The shed, you still have no recollection of where it was located.”

“My eyes were swollen shut. Beat me within an inch of my life. Barely escaped. Pitch blackout. Can I continue?”

“Please.”

///

One— two— three four— five men down on the ground in a circle. I was in the middle of them. It was night time, and we were behind an abandoned bathhouse. They were low-level street guys. Easy, still good practice. One of them managed to bust my top lip open with the back of his pistol, as you can tell.

I went and pulled my knife out of the guy in front of me. He was an inch shorter than me, but build wide. He made a good shield. His blood was still warm. Sticky too, because when I pulled my fingers apart, there were little strings between my index and middle finger.

I remember when I looked up at the sky, there still weren’t any stars. I don’t think I have seen stars in any part of Tokyo. There is too much noise for there to be any. This city is always loud. Day, night, it doesn’t matter; there is always sound. Always a car honking, people talking, news reports blaring off the side of buildings. It used to give me such a bad headache. Even to the point where all my other senses would get fuc—messed up. So I have learned to hear underneath the sound. And underneath all that sound, I could hear breathing that was just as low and slow as mine, as you taught us to do.

Admittedly, him being anywhere nearby wasn’t my first initial thought. I know I said I had “seen” Barnes a couple of times since the shed, still it had been awhile. I think around six months was the last time I saw him when you sent me on my second mission to Paris. My gut reaction was that the breathing was coming from one of the very dead men around me, and I just started bashing their heads in with the back of my boot.

Speaking of which, I’m going to need new boots.

Back of my heel was right above the fourth guy when Barnes came out of the black, between the bathhouse and a hotel. He had cut his hair and shaved his face. Clean-cut, not a bad look on him.

“I think you got-em, _kid_.”

The haircut didn’t change that he was still the same asshole.

“Jessica.”

My adrenaline was still pretty high at that point. Getting charged back up wasn’t a problem at all. The green glow from my hands stayed focused on Barnes as he paced from left to right. He joked about me acting hostile and that he met no harm. I don’t know if he genuinely forgot that the first time we met/talked he punched me in the face and kept me locked up in a shed for three weeks— which I repeat a shed I don’t remember the location of— but if he was going to play dumb then so was I.  
I asked him what he was doing here, and he made a comment about the color of my suit. He thought that red was a bold choice for an undercover agent.

I told him to answer me.

He didn’t.

Instead, he started reading off the headlines that the newspapers ran after the Toranomon Hills fire. I don’t know what the point of that was. As if I wasn’t there, as if I don’t know the things I’ve done. If anything, it just made me mad. I kept repeating myself, and he wouldn’t answer. I asked him to shut the fuc—stop talking. He just kept talking and talking and talking that I hit my breaking point.

“All a little heroic. Don’t ya think, kid?”

I let myself go. Shot Barnes with that venom blast.

However, you have trained us all too well. He dodged it no problem.

I charged up again.

He moved closer to me, “People are watching you.”

“Your people, you mean.”

“More than them. You keep your books balanced, but—”

“But what?”

“I’m worried about you.”

There is something pretty funny about that phrase to me, “worried about you” I feel like I hear it a lot. I mean back when I was in the shed Barnes didn’t say that to me word for word, he hinted at it. And when you guys took me in, one of the first things Madame ever said to me was she was worried about my well being. Which is nice to hear, gives me a flicker of warmth. It’s just I don’t think I entirely understand that if I cause concern, then why did Barnes take so long to step out of the black or why haven’t I spoken to the Madame directly in almost a year.  
Then again, it’s much easier to play along because I have learned that the fewer questions you ask, the more people trust you, and the quicker they leave you alone.  
Barnes kept inching forward, “Jessica.”

“Don’t Jessica me.”

I really do hate that.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, kid.” He pointed at my hands.

I was so angry, I didn’t notice that most of the suit had burned away at that point. The skin on my hands, especially at the fingertips, had started to turn black.

This means, along with new boots, I need a new suit. This latest one you guys have made for me worked great for the most part. Comfortable, flexible, good fit. Just need to find a material that can withstand prolonged exposure to bioelectric energy. I’m okay. Few new scars never hurt anybody. Still, I’m not a fan of the smell of burnt flesh. It stays in your nose too long.  
I hit the brick wall of exhaustion pretty hard at that point. I guess while you guys work on a new suit, I will have to work on my pacing. I almost fell to the ground, but Barnes got me at the last second. He propped me up on the trashcan, as you can see in this photo.

“The suit?” he asked again.

“I like the color red.”

That got him to laugh. He told me that wasn’t what he meant and that it was much different from my last one.

“The last one?” Upped my voice an octave. Gets them every time.

“Remember? I said I would be keeping an eye on you.”

“And?”

“What you did back in Budapest? With just a knife?”

“Thank you.”

I have to admit, it was pretty good work for just a girl with a switchblade.

He asked if I knew the men I had just killed. I didn’t, honest. I had been in the neighborhood, swinging around, when I saw them harassing these two girls, sisters it looked like, who were on their way home. I didn’t plan on doing anything at first. Men say awful things every day, just these men started getting a little too close. When the short one, the one I used as a shield, tugged on the skirt of the younger girl, she started crying. I jumped down from the roof of the bathhouse. Killed them all.

The men, I mean.

Barnes asked about what happened to the little girls if they got home safe and sound. I shrugged my shoulder and told him that I think they did. They were gone by the time the first bullet rang out.

“You think?”

He didn’t sound all too happy with my answer.

“I hope.”

That answer wasn’t any better.

Barnes then moved the hair out of my face and said, “They got to you, huh?”

They, as in you, Hydra.

You know—pardon my language here because I know Madame is big on manners— I don’t know what the literal fuck that bold statement was supposed to mean. I told him back in the shed what my deal was. Did I like that those guys were touching those girls? No. Did I also have a new suit to test out to make sure it would be able to function in case I-me-Jessica-Spyder Woman was in actual danger? Yes. And that’s it. I wanted to snap his arm in two when he said that to me. Especially touching me, gently tucking my hair behind my ear as if that was going to add any sentimental value to him being a self-righteous asshole.

Unfortunately, I’m not strong enough to break vibranium. Maybe that is something we can work on.

“Do you feel anything at all?” Barnes asked me. Bent down to the ground so that we could make eye contact.

The key to playing along is to drop hints of honesty. I told him I felt something, but killing people or saving them all feels the same. Barnes called that indifference. I say I don’t know their names.

I asked if he remembered all the names of the people he hurt. He didn’t. Asked him if he remembered all the names of the people who are still alive because of him. He didn’t. You want to know why? Because there is no possible way, you ever could. Earth mightiest heroes? To who?

Barnes looked out to the street, where all the pretty lights and people were, then back to the five dead men that were behind him. He took a deep breath, “Well, then point of doing anything at all?”

It was a fair question to ask. The only answer I had was something that I was told a long time ago. When I was just a kid, long before you guys ever found me.

“Did you know that the female is always the deadliest in the species.”

“They are?”

“And you want to know how they got that way? They evolved.”

///

The nameless, faceless man adjusted his glasses as he finished up writing done a shorthand account of Jessica’s story. The tape recorder was still going; however, every document needed a backup record.  
Jessica put the photograph back on the table, “And that was the end of that.”

The man dropped his pen mid-sentence, “That’s it?”

“Well, he asked me again about the Avengers as a sort of last-ditch effort.” Jessica pushed the scattered papers on the table together to make one neat pile. “Said no thank you. Hail Hydra and went our separate ways.”

“You didn’t attempt to subdue James Buchanan Barnes as you did in the shed. Use your pheromones, venom blast, or any of your other extensive training.”

“I know my story was long, but please remember how I told you at the start that I killed five men and had destroyed most of my suit in the process. The answer is no. We went our separate ways.”

“And he didn’t—”

“My name is Jessica, not James.” She stood up and took her red motorcycle jacket off the back of the chair. She slipped it over her shoulders and gave herself a look in the two-way mirror, “Can I go home now? I don’t have anything else to say.”

“I want to ask one more question. To make sure our reports are as accurate as possible. You stated earlier, ‘I told him back in the shed what my deal was.’ Can you please explain what you mean by this. What is your deal?”

For a moment, Jessica could feel the cold winter air on the tip of her nose, along with snowflakes on her cheeks. “Seems nitpicky.”

“To be honest with you, Madame is starting to question your loyalty.”

“She can ask me herself then.” Jessica rushed towards the door.

“Jessica, please answer the question.”

The air on her arms stood up straight. On the other side of the two-way mirror, Jessica could hear the click of a gun.

“Answer the question. The tape is almost out.”

_Secure my own survival._

Jessica relaxed her shoulders, taking in a sharp breath. She placed her fingers on the door handle, “Complete the mission at any and all costs.”  
The man stopped the tape recorder. He finished up a few more scribbles in his notebook before closing it. “Exactly. With off the record with instruction for Madame herself, the next encounter you have with Barnes or anyone from the Avengers, you will join if asked. Understood?”  
Jessica stood still as she heard the flick of a finger on the trigger, “Understood.”

“Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.”

Jessica let go of the door.


End file.
